The house was lifeless. The piano sounds that once filled the atmosphere were long gone and the voice that accompanied the piano sounds left no trace. It was awkward, with the air giving me shivers down my spine. It didn’t surprise me though, it had always been like this since that fateful day. That day that had ended Mom’s life and had started the rage on Dad’s heart. I shook off the thought. There is no need to find a reason to cry today.
I walked towards my room and my feet made little sneaky footsteps. Surprisingly, each step I land on the cold tiled floor echoes and then the silence is broken. Are my footsteps really this loud, or is the house just too silent? But it didn’t matter, I just have to go to my room and escape this living room that I used to know and stay in, letting hours slip by. I found my way and so my room door now stood in front of me. Slowly, I opened my room, careful enough to just let it emit little pitchy screeches. The lavender painted room unravelled and finally, I began to breathe normally. This room has always been my haven during those times that the anger and hate had been directed to me. Oops, my bad. It should be “every time the hate and anger are directed to me”. I’m sure you don’t understand what I mean, but let me explain a little. For short, the blame always goes to me. Every problem in this ‘family’ if it is what I should call it, has always been put down on me. All goes to me. I am the receiver of hate in this house I am currently in. I put my bag down on the mattress of the bed and took my jacket off. The room had done its miracle again: it made me feel warm, warm enough to make me take off this fake mask that had always been on my personality, building up the sadness in me. What should I do now? Maybe read a novel, write a story, or maybe just sleep early? This has always been my daily life; wondering what I should do every time I come home from school. Before that “doom’s day”, I used to come home excitedly, open this room’s door and close it without worrying how much noise it releases, and open my laptop, listen to music, and sing to my heart’s content. I used to record my voice too. More than once had I posted an acoustic cover of a song on YouTube, and more than many times had I posted voice records of my covers on different infamous websites. Music had been my life, but things change along with people and time. Music is like a person who used to be my best friend, someone who I used to know and admire a lot. Now, I cannot find the voice to sing, and my ears are deafened by the silence that had embraced this lonely place. I gave out a sigh and jumped on my bed. My eyes gave way to the gravity and they closed humbly.
The full moon shone brightly and it lit the beach’s warm waters. The ocean was calm and nobody was around. Not a sound is heard and not a sight could be seen except for a figure sitting on the beach’s sand. Her legs were folded upright to her chest and her arms were wrapped tightly around her folded legs. It seemed that she was enjoying the scenery that the innocent moon made. Next to her was a guitar, laid on the sand next to her. The wind howled. It blew the girl’s hair swiftly in the air. She turned to her side and I saw her face, but it was dark. Even though I can’t see her clearly, I can assure she’s got a pretty face. She held her guitar and unfolded her legs then began strumming the instrument. The melody was very pleasant to the ears and I just want to listen to it all day. She played the guitar a little longer and I just watched. I could feel that she was playing sincerely and that the tune she was making was from her heart, bringing out her outer emotion. The beat was sad but peaceful and I loved it. Should I go to her? I wondered a little while she played and played. I made my decision and my feet found themselves on the beach sand towards her. Little by little, I took footsteps, every step nearer and nearer and the melody getting louder and louder. Each step made me shiver and each move I take, my heartbeats get louder and louder. The wind howled again and it made my hair on my arm stand so I wrapped my arms around it. One step, heartbeat races. Another step and my heartbeats get louder, louder, and louder.
I woke up and found my heart pumping fast. Sweat beads rolled down from my temples. I was dreaming. I was startled when a knock landed on my door. I sat up, another knock. Another impatient knock made me stand up and walk towards the door. Who is it? I opened it and there stood Ms Gracie, Dad’s secretary in his office. She used to be Mom’s best friend and once worked as a designer in a famous company. When the company went down, the apartment bills had knocked her off. Mom let her stay here and hired her as vice-president of our company. When Mom died, Dad moved her to another field of designing and made her secretary because he promised Mom.
